


Beyond the Horizon

by LowerBlack



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Children, Children, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-06-28 11:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LowerBlack/pseuds/LowerBlack
Summary: They traveled to the ends of the world, but the end of one journey just gave beginning to another. One-shot collection of Rex and his family's daily lives about 10 years later. *Endgame spoilers*





	1. Red I

**Beyond the Horizon  
Red: Under Heaven’s Skies**

The sound of a ticking clock and the warm rays of the earliest sun lightly pierced through the soft white curtain of a half-opened window, and in the stillness of dawn’s embrace, Pyra found herself awakened by a gentle push to her shoulder.

With a soft movement, she retires her messy fringe and scrunches her crimson eyes, to be greeted by a small figure who stands barely above the bed’s frame. The girl who’s quietly watching has dark curly hair and parted bangs that reveal a round face with clearly childish features, and accompanying eyes the color of amber that observe her with a tint of eagerness.

“Mama?” The tiny girl speaks sheepishly.

“Good morning” Pyra replies softly, running a naked palm through her daughter’s cheek, who instantly cuddles on it, giving a tiny smile in return.

“Good morning, mama”

“Did you sleep well?”

An enthusiastic nod is her response.

“No monsters under your bed?”

The confirmation she receives is equally decisive.

“That’s great” Pyra declares with a beaming smile, and she finally incorporates from her resting position, slowly but decidedly, but also not before scurrying a bit to the side and unclogging Mythra’s arm from her stomach, with the same difficulty and yet the same movement she’s grown accustomed to; first take her hand, squeeze it just a bit, and then gently pull back. It always works.

The wood creaks under her bare feet when she finally leans forward from the edge of the bed, and with a relaxed yawn, she stretches a pair of slender arms up.

“Papa left earlier” The adorable tyke elaborates as Pyra washes the drowsiness off. “Nia-mama and Mana went with him… Said they’d be back for breakfast”

“I see. They should return soon” The vermillion-haired mother responds. “And the rest of your brothers and sisters?”

“Lux is still sleeping…”

“And the rest of them?”

An immediate gulp.

“O-outside” and her stuttering is obvious as well.

“Is that right?” There is no twitch or changes in her inflection, but well… she knows better. “Where exactly are they now?”

“Uhm…” The girl fidgets, tapping the tips of her indexes against each other. “They… didn’t tell… B-But Grandpa March is with them! They should… be… fine…”

She doesn’t sound convincing at all, and her mother knows full well why. Poor old Dromarch at the end of the day is the one pushed around by the kids, when it should be him playing nanny. But no matter what anyone would be told, the fact was that good ol’ Dromarch loved the kids and would not hesitate to take off the kiddie gloves should real danger come to happen, and she trusted him to keep the kids away from anything truly threatening. Pyra gives a soft sigh with a reassuring smile, and pecks a small kiss in the child’s forehead.

“Then we have to get ready for them to come back, don’t we?”

The girl’s amber eyes light up immediately.

“I… I’ve already b-begun the preparations!” She declares proudly, puffing her chest victoriously.

“Really now?” Pyra gives a non-faltering smile, releasing a breath easily and taking a moment to finally study her daughter up-front. And she had indeed been in the kitchen by the looks of it, if the spots of flour on her sleeves and the grease on her chin were anything to go by.

“O-of course! I said I would help you with the house chores!”

“Alright, then. How about you go on ahead? I’ll catch up soon”

The girl nods enthusiastically and turns on her heels to leave the room without missing a beat, her smile growing to its brightest at the prospect of cooking breakfast with her mother.

Pyra then turns to Mythra, who’s sprawled in all of her ignoble lack of glamour of the early morning. Even after almost a decade, the blonde ex-Aegis still kept doing all sorts of stunts, turns and kicks in her sleep. Thank the Architect that Rex slept like a rock. At the very least, Mythra didn’t sleepwalk anymore, if only due to them sharing the bedroom… although that wasn’t much of a consolation, all things considered.

There is a reason why Mythra slept on the farthest corner.

“Mythra, it's morning already. Rise and shine” Pyra nudges her former half, to no avail. She doesn’t press further; the blonde was exhausted, so it was only fair. That last mission must have not been easy, even with the help of Praxis and Theory. She wonders briefly were those two could be, but surmises they should be nearby, all things considered.

She could worry about them later. Right now she needs to collect herself and begin preparing breakfast. Armies march on their stomachs, after all. Once she is back on her feet she discards her nightgown, a simple white dress, and greets her own naked frame on the grand mirror at their bedside, huge enough to let 4 people stand side to side, which tends to be the usual scene in the mornings. Pyra inspects herself, going through the same usual motions, and perhaps due to this rare occasion of her being the only one at the mirror’s reflection, she does her motions a bit slower than usual.

It remains an odd sight still, of that emerald gleam in her chest. In a way, she had grown accustomed to that x-shaped fissure in her Core Crystal, and to date, she would find herself unconsciously brushing it whilst peeking at Rex’s own chest in moments of stillness. The physical proof of their link is long gone, but the bond itself is stronger than ever. She is glad about not having to think too much about it; Nia had often poked at her for it before, and though a bunch of bad habits remain, being able to simply laugh upon the memories instead of doubling back at every single step gives the flaming ex-Aegis a peace of mind she once couldn’t dream possible.

She calls upon her usual get-up. In a burst of soft ether light that gently envelops her, Pyra attains her trademark form. The emerald accents of her clothes shine brightly with the same glow of the Crystal in her chest, now whole and proudly standing out against the crimson hues of her outfit. She takes a peek at her reflection for a while, and decidedly brings a comb to make herself at least a bit more presentable.

The ex-Aegis still isn’t quite sure of the whys or hows, but she is definitely aging. Had it been part of her father’s final gift as well? Along with her sister, Pyra has slowly realized that they are not the exact same as they had been prior to that one fateful day, if the tips of her hair hanging just below her shoulders, which along with small changes such as the increased need for sleep and eating had been anything to go by, even though they already were different from the common Blades.

Perhaps the most obvious one comes in the form of a need for glasses, now that she spends most of her days reading, many times well after hours. While she is by no means a bibliophile (and Architect knows she had to put up with Adenine), reading is now a constant in Pyra’s evenings, so it came as a big surprise when her eyesight started failing her. Cue a checkup by Nia and Dromarch, followed by an actual oculist (who had trouble going around to the fact that he was diagnosing a _Blade_ , even more the _Legendary Aegis_ of them all), and it was concluded without a doubt that she had developed hyperopia.

Nia hadn’t let that one down for a while. For someone so seemingly grand, almost divine in nature, something as mundane as farsightedness struck on quite a number of levels.

Pyra takes the prophesized article and places the clear glasses on her face, a fancy rimless pair with a dark red frame that matches the darker accents of her outfit; custom ordered by Mythra of course, who wouldn’t have her going around with a “boring, flavorless pair” as she so eloquently put back then. The novelty wore out quickly, especially when it became apparent that she’d need something more combat-friendly (Spinning and pirouetting in battle like she did would only keep a pair of glasses on her so well. Pyra still wondered how Pandoria put up with it). The legs are scratched and well-worn by this point, with the glass sporting minuscule, almost invisible dents on the crystalline edges.

A hairbrush resulting in a bushy ponytail and a quick visit to the washroom later, Pyra is ready to begin her day, so she marches out of her shared bedroom with soft, light steps. By the time she’s halfway down the flight of stairs, she’s pleasantly greeted by the smell of flour and sweet fruit, and the sight of a tyke with an oversized apron vigorously beating the pancake mix at the best of what her tiny frame and current abilities allow her while standing on top of a small stool, as otherwise she wouldn’t be able to reach the cupboards at all. Pyra quietly strides to her right, fitting a pink apron matching her daughter’s in design to her body.

“How many eggs?” Pyra asks.

“Three for this batch, just as you told me!” The girl beams confidently.

Pyra eyes the mixture critically, and gives a reassuring smile.

“That’s perfect, honey. It seems to have the right amount of milk and flour too”

Practice does make perfect, after all.

“At this rate I won’t have anything left to do!” The mother exclaims exaggeratedly.

“T-that’s not true! I need help with the fruit, mama!” The refutation is immediate and earnest.

“Of course” The mother replies by brushing her daughter’s flour-dusted hair, then eyes some particular utensils which are out of their usual place, still sheathed, but clearly ready to roll. “Knives are?”

“Dangerous and should be used with caution” The child finishes the phrase.

And so Pyra does, taking a small knife from the counter to peel the assorted fruits of vivid colors, while also making note of what should be saved for lunch and dinner. She never stops giving stealthy glances to the girl beside her and her progress. It’s not been long since Soleil, cute little thing, started joining her in the mornings to make breakfast for the whole “battalion”, as Rex so heartily puts when the table of their home is filled to the brim, but having this little activity gives the Blade a deep, immense joy.

“Should I turn on the pans yet, mama?”

“Let me see that…” Her mother takes a quick but still inspective look at the mix. “That is fine, you can, but…”

“Of course, with s-supervision”

Pyra observes bemusedly how she carefully places the bowl on the counter and slowly slides it near to the stove, quietly drops down from her stool, carries that stool to the front of the stove, and climbs back onto it without saying a word, although it’s obvious that she’s still flustered, surely because she’s still nervous about handling the apparatus.

Pyra had made herself perfectly clear on the dangers of gas and sparks after Mythra tried her hand without supervision and nearly blew off their kitchen 8 years ago, resulting in Rex needing to make more cuts to their already strained finances and doubling up on Mercenary work for a few weeks, so after the incident, a rule was created, in which unless the members of the household had Pyra’s permission to touch the devices of her domain (read: the cooking equipment of the kitchen, namely and mainly knives and the stove), nobody would try it without her being around, especially for the kids (no one will stop the kids from their sandwiches though).

The assorted fruits are easily peeled and chopped in pieces. Pyra separates them.

As Soleil grows comfortable around it though, of the kids that populate the house, the child can proudly declare to be the only one that’s allowed to use the kitchen (not that her brothers and sisters cared much for it in the first place, but in her 6 year old mind, it’s the next best thing after pudding. She has responsibilities!).

The twin pans are now heated up, and Pyra helps her daughter by buttering them up. An enticing smell smokes from the melting gold pulp, and soon enough they’re ready to pump out the first batch. Pyra takes care to place them on the rightmost burners, as those are right in front of her daughter, for she herself stands on her daughter’s left side, where she takes yet another pan to prepare the eggs.

Soleil eyes her mother expectantly.

“C-Can I…?”

“Of course”

So she reaches for the bowl she had previously moved to the side, and using the big plastic spoon she had previously left at the ready, she scoops the mixture, and biting her tongue in focus, she tries to replicate her mother’s movements she’s so intently studied for years. The motion results a bit awkward as she cannot grip the spoon effectively due to her small hands and shorter arms, but she doesn’t let that stop her. Soon enough the pancakes are cooking themselves. Pyra does not miss a beat and also cracks some eggs to cook on her own pan.

“D-Did I do it right, mama?”

“You’re doing well so far”

“But it’s not over until it’s served and the stove is off”

The Fire Blade nods sagely at her daughter’s words. For someone so small, Soleil takes all of her mother’s advice and indications to heart, and might as well be the one who takes after her the most. Not necessarily physically, but more in spirit. Mythra often joked that Soleil is a miniature Pyra, only for Nia to snidely remind the blonde that Soleil is to Pyra to what Lux is to her, only truly cuter (jokingly on this last matter of course), which in return would cause the child in question to cry out to the heavens that he was not like his mother at all… only to meekly come to Mythra later when she’s alone, and with teary eyes, admit that he loves his mother too much but is embarrassed to admit it in front of others. Mythra would then squeeze the living daylights out of him, which would only serve to make him return to _tsun_ mode.

The _dere_ side might come out rarely, but it’s always a pleasure to see the strongheaded Lux being meek. The kid does take a bit after his father of course, for he’s a lot easier to manage compared to his mother (something which Rex has made Lux promise will not tell her. _Ever_.). Dense skulls and big hearts from both sides is prone to have that effect.

Pyra instructs Soleil to flip the pancakes, and reaches for two stacked large plates on the shelf in preparation. The first batch is done soon enough, and after another serving of butter, like before, a second batch of pancakes is in place, while she easily takes out her sunnysides and places them on the remaining plate.

The open window in the kitchen allows a delicious smell to reach the outside of their house, and soon enough, Pyra and Soleil can hear familiar voices.

The door to their home is unceremoniously opened, and new voices fill the household.

“We’re home!” Nia’s voice announces.

“We’re home!” Rex’s voice parrots.

And light steps reach into the kitchen.

“Good morning, everyone” Pyra beams radiantly.

“Mornin’, Pyra, Soleil” Rex’s visage brings an even bigger smile to Pyra’s face, and he walks assuredly towards her, taking her by her back and hugging her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Pancakes an’ eggs?”

“Yep. But it’s all Soleil here” Pyra squeezes Rex’s hand with her own free left hand, for the right one is occupied with a spatula to tend to the eggs.

“’s dat right?” Rex lets go of Pyra and scurries over to watch her daughter, who’s looking at him with expectant eyes. “Wow! Ye’ve outdone yerself again, little sun!”

“I-It’s not much…” The girl turns a shade that easily rivals Pyra’s hair color, but is nonetheless delighted to receive the praise. “Morning, Nia-mama”

“Mornin’, sunlight” Nia lightly squeezes the child, quickly allowing her to resume her activities.

“Where’s Mana?” Pyra asks. “I thought she went with you?”

“She did. Oh, I’ll get that” Nia answers at the sight of Rex pouring the coffee beans on the machine, and she takes it over from him, who easily surrenders the machine and spoon to her. “But she spotted Erio and Clark goin’ at it again, so she wen’ ahead to get ‘em good. Mythra still in bed?”

Pyra nods, and feels a small breathe leave her. Mana was by no means a violent girl, but putting her in the same equation as those two often ended in disaster… And then she remembers that Felicia’s also there.

Nia’s ears twitch slightly. An amused grin creeps to her face as she directs her attention to the kitchen’s window.

“Should be back in…”

The thing is, that no matter how much they went at it, the disaster came over for the children, not so much for anyone else.

“Right ‘bout now”

And right on cue, a pitiful yet faraway cry reaches Rex’s home. The other adults and kid present within the place turn their attention to the kitchen’s window to mimic Nia, and from there, they identify a ball of sorts rolling at high speeds towards their direction from the hill.

“Not again…” Soleil whines pitifully.

“I got dis” Rex says joyously and leaves the house from the backdoor. The women left inside catch him walking uphill with easy steps.

“So, what got you up so early?” Pyra asks after taking out the 3rd batch of eggs.

“Right. Coffee?” Nia produces a number of cups from a counter.

“Mhm”

“Nothing much. I caught up to Rex before he went on his own to get chewed by the old coots”

“I thought the Chiefs were pleased with our services?”

“Of course” Nia snorts ungracefully. “But they’re bein’ stingy about the payment”

“ _Again?_ Oh dear… At least tell me you didn’t have to push Rex too much this time?”

Nowadays it‘s basically a worldwide known fact that New Alrest’s savior is a total pushover when it came to helping others, so it fell upon them to keep him from being taken advantage of. Not because he’s gullible, but simply put because he refuses to say no to anyone in need.

“Just had to elbow him twice before he let me take over” Nia elaborates.

If the Driver of the Aegis was known for his kind heart, his wives were known as the counterweight to his often times excessive benevolence; Nia and Mythra more so, and having the guidance and support of the Flamebringer herself _and_ the Crown Prince of Tantal also spoke leagues (Mòrag herself had seen through the social murdering of a select few who proved their utter ungratefulness. Zeke had been much less subtle in his advances of course).

Pyra for her part did not see the field of combat much these days; she’s content with sitting on the back and supporting the rest of her family by providing them a warm meal and a home to return to after their daily trials and tribulations were over.

This does _not_ mean she’s always at home by any stretch or that her strength’s rotting away; the full conquering of the New Leftherian Coast was only possible after a rampage of hers after all.  Architect (And also the local Lexosi, Flammies and Crustips, of which the last two became a food source for a good few weeks once she was done with them) knows that her children are enough cause for her to berserk against anything and win against everything that stood in her path, Driver by her side or not.

“Morning” A new voice joins them. The other two Blades turn their attention to the stairs, where they spot a blonde woman, clad in just a white top and black shorts coming down, a hairband tucked on her lips and hands busy scrambling her hair. Mythra has to stop dead in her tracks for a second before she’s able to do her hair.

“Morning, Mythra” Pyra greets.

“Mornin’ you two” Nia parrots casually.

“Good morning, mama Mythra” Soleil also follows on.

The blonde Aegis finishes pulling some stray strands away from her face, and coming to terms with her appearance, walks fully into the kitchen. She pecks them two and shuffles for the fridge, ruffling Soleil’s hair with a wide grin when she passes by her, who in return sheepishly allows herself to receive the sign. Pyra then spies a small snow-haired child trailing behind Mythra, eyes half-closed in heavy drowsiness.

“Good morning, moms” He greets while rubbing his eyes, followed by a gargantuan yawn he does not hide in the least. Nia gives an amused smile and lovingly pats his head; thankfully, he’s groggy enough to let it slip.

“Slept well, sweetheart?” Pyra inquires.

“Yeah…” Lux grunts in response.

“Go wash yourself. Breakfast is almost ready” Mythra says, her face peeking from the fridge's opened door.

“Yeah… yeah…” The child keeps rubbing his eyes and trails off for a corridor in search of an available washroom.

Pyra resumes her operations, and is briefly joined by Mythra, who’s served herself a glass of juice. The elder ex-Aegis eyes the pans and gives her sister and Soleil an approving look.

The sound of an opening door is the next thing that Pyra notices, and she can barely register a speeding blur.

“Goodmorninmomsgottarushberightbackforbreakfastokay!” The voice of Felicia passes by.

“FELICIA!” Mana comes into view, hair and collar disgruntled. The child stops in her tracks on the kitchen unlike her fleeting sister.

“Good morning” Mana greets with irritation clear as water in her voice. Mythra and Nia merely acknowledge her presence with an amused smirk, but Soleil is clearly bothered by their antics, although she does not show it outwardly. Mana traces Pyra’s eyes looking at the floor, and she gulps at the sight of dirty footprints. Those tell everyone in the kitchen everything they need to know. “I-I’m sorry…”

And so Mana darts after her sister.

Pyra does not let the antics stop her from indicating Soleil to turn her pancakes. Mythra for her part keeps her juice in her lips, an amused smile hidden from view, but as she turns to the red-headed Blade, she caves in.

“Need help with-“

But their returned peace is perturbed once more by a child’s indignant scream. Mythra sighs.

“I got this”

And she leaves, with her destination being the residence’s washrooms. Nia chuckles, bringing a hand to her mouth, but is not amused that much more when a loud thud shakes the house again.

“EEP!” Soleil shrieks, having forgotten about the sight of a rolling furball from earlier.

“Owwwww” A miserable whimper is heard from the outside almost in response.

“And I got that one” Nia announces, leaving for the backyard after her husband and her most-surely injured daughter.

Pyra turns her attention back to Soleil, who has a complicated expression adorning her features. The mother decides to shrug it off for now.

“Care to prepare the mop for after breakfast?” She asks of her daughter. “I’ll finish here”

Soleil doesn’t look very pleased, but caves in nonetheless. She drops from her stool and takes it to the storage room.

“Don’t forget to wash yourself after that!” Pyra raises her voice a couple decibels.

“Yes, mama…” She hears her weary response along to the sound of running water.

Pyra decides to wrap up the preparations for today’s breakfast. The pancakes are piled up with their brethren, and so are the eggs in their respective plates.

“Morning, mother” Clark announces serenely.

“Good mor-“ Pyra turns back to her eldest son but doubles back at his filthy appearance, as his face, arms and clothes are dipped with a layer of now-drying mud. “By the Architect, Clark!” She reprimands.

“I’m sorry, mother” Clark grunts, scratching the side of his head awkwardly. “I’ll go wash myself now…”

“Breakfast is almost ready. If you catch Felicia, tell her to only wash her face and arms. She will take her shower later. This applies to you too” She orders without chance of rebuttal.

Thankfully, Clark is always ready to take the fall.

“Of course, mother” He responds without defiance, and scrambles for the washrooms.

_“OH COME ON!”_ Lux’s indignant cry comes from the washrooms and not too late after.

Pyra sighs, taking a hand to her cheek.

“We roughed up yer morning, didn’t we?” Rex’s voice comes from behind her. “Sorry about that, Pyra”

But her spirits are instantly renewed.

“A scolding is in order” She nods sagely. “But first, we all need to fill our stomachs”

 “Dat we do” Rex grins widely, then opens the counters to fill the table with plates and glasses. “Let me help ya with dat”

The duo then starts setting the table, with Rex filling the 10 spots with plates, glasses and their respective fork sets.

“No bacon this time?”

 “We have a lot of fruit due to Mrs. Alura’s kindness” Pyra answers calmly. “Next time?”

Pyra herself places the larger plates containing the eggs, pancakes and fruit to the center, each one with a respectable hill of their own.

“Next time” Rex concedes. Pyra finishes by putting a small metallic pitcher on the stove at the lowest fire in preparation for those who will undoubtedly ask for chocolate milk.

“So how did it go with it go with the Chiefs?” Pyra finally allows herself some respite.

“Uh…” Rex fidgets awkwardly. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Nia took over from me early”

“No complications?”

“In the least” Rex waves his hand. “Chief Franz just wanted to cut down on the Merc’s pay for the last escorts. Nia didn’t let ‘im have his way”

The notion of _“And I’m glad she did”_ went unsaid, but its intent was obvious. Pyra allows herself to chuckle.

“T’be fair, I know it’s been awkward going around New Leftheria an’ the small towns with the crazy movements of the creatures an’ new monsters an’ new routes an’ all dat”

“Our friends at Garfont must also be a bit restless without Yew and Zuo around, too…”

“Yeah, no kiddin’” Rex chuckles.

“At least they’re finally settling down. Architect knows they’ve been overworking themselves for years”

“And cheers to that” Nia comes in with a defeated Erio in tow, who has her good right arm cast into a sling. Soleil is worriedly inquiring about it.

“Morning, Erio” Pyra greets solemnly, then processes her state. She turns to Nia. “No healing arts this time?”

“It’s ‘bout time she got her head outta the gutter” Nia ruffles her daughter’s hair, who only gives a dejected sigh. “’sides, I think ya should give her a piece of yer mind. We all know she needs it”

“Is that so…”

Erio pales completely at the notion. She slowly, _very_ slowly turns her gaze towards Pyra’s face, who’s sporting a perfectly clinical smile, which hides a maelstrom of dangerous intent behind it, which the girl can easily sense. Nia snorts a little.

“Aw, c’mon. Don’t bully her too much” Rex chides in. “She’s already gotten a busted shoulder and no arts to heal it. I think she’s got plenty to think ‘bout fer a while”

“Y-yeah!” Erio tries to save grace. “I’m already bruised as it is! M-more would be overkill!”

But Pyra’s perfect smile does not falter in the least.

“Go get cleaned up before you dig your grave further, Erio” Clark comes into the kitchen, and takes his place at the table, face, glasses and arms clean with a new shirt on his torso. His hair seems a bit wet too. Erio defiantly flashes her tongue at her brother, but Clark is too amused to let it bother him.

“Moms! Clark is being a smartass again!”

“Language”

“Titan’s Foot! Not you too, dad!”

“Language!” This one is Mythra, who also comes into view with 3 other kids behind her, who are also cleaned up, or in the case of Mana, gained at least a bit of dignity back by fixing her hair-do and collar.

“The shovel keeps going _deeperrrrrr_ ” Clark sings.

“I really think it’s time for you to clean yourself up” Nia says solemnly.

Erio whines in defeat and does as told, disappearing on the doorway to the washrooms.

“I’ll help her” Soleil volunteers and follows after.

“So, isn’t it time for breakfast already? I’m starving!” Felicia declares unabashedly.

At least, all the members of the house could relate to that one statement.


	2. White I

**Beyond the Horizon  
White: Precious Declaration**

The tip of an ivory blade found itself embedded on the ground, supporting the weight of an exhausted Mythra, who allows herself some respite after a continuous, grueling three hours of non-stop exploration.

While she has grown to wield her power with pride and has the ability to back her, as well as the knowledge of her limits (and Architect knows her beloved husband and wives had to drill that into her; pride without measure is only recklessness after all), Mythra nonetheless remains a stubborn one, and though she relents when told so, juggling combat and exploration back and forth like she does is straining, maybe inhumanly so.

Yet she does not allow herself to surrender.

While some would often claim that their new order should be left alone, “per the Architect’s will”, those who stood by such words had never actually set foot in the actual settlements where the locals had to deal with the unannounced, oftentimes unassuming, most definitely unwelcome guests of New Alrest, then there were those who like her current companions, were delving deeper and deeper into the innards of the world below them, damning preconceptions.

Anyone with two fingers up front knows that the “balance” is out of control. Life cycles, ecosystems, people, animals and monsters alike are all re-adjusting at a slow and arduous pace, and even after a decade or so, coming to terms with the new status quo is never easy.

From the Cloud Sea, land rose, and with the new land came new challenges, new changes… new _life_.

“Lady Mythra, would you like some?” One of the explorers asks respectfully while holding out a sealed flask of blissful water. She accepts with a nod and a tired smile, and is delighted to receive hydration, taking almost half of it in one go, the explorer then gives a friendly salute and scrams to help his buddies. Mythra then approaches the group of scholars who are mumbling to themselves, scanning the scene around her to grasp the state of everyone else in her passing.

She perks an ear at the recon squad first, and allows herself some respite at hearing the initial report from the beast-type Blades of the air being clear. The message is soon relayed to the rest of the party, and soon enough Blades and Drivers alike are hurriedly scurrying around, preparing tents, rations and healing equipment for the injured.

Nothing grave, thankfully, and though Mythra refuses to accept it outwardly (and even then inwardly too), all of the people present in the exploration party would with no doubt agree that it’s mainly thanks to her company that they’ve managed to come this deep without any casualties.

After several incidents around the caves in the new Gormotti edges, where more than a few parties of explorers were sent to the hospital covered in burns, Mythra struck a golden business opportunity. It was simple in practice; across many of the new caverns, people would often come across a never seen before black tar, and through a combination of circumstance and bad luck, explorers soon found out the hard way that it was highly flammable, and that the tar wasn’t their only concern, as they would often also find that where the black tar sediments lied, usually there would also be certain gases that were equally if not more dangerous, due to their invisible and equally volatile nature.

Cue a moment of brilliance, Mythra rallied the Light blades she knew (Namely Corvin and KOS-MOS) and the best Healer Blades that were up to the task to become the perfect escort for these fellows. Their control over Light ether particles allowed them to bypass the combustion of the tar _and_ the gases, and thanks to the hostile nature of many caverns, the process of setting power grids in them was quite slow, so it came as a win-win: explorers could dive leisurely with the safety net of having an ex-Aegis or two very powerful Blades backing them should things go sour, and Mythra herself would get a good penny out of it (Corvin was into it for the thrill. and was more than happy to come along with Mòrag being swamped with legal work; meanwhile, KOS-MOS being KOS-MOS, only needed Nia to tell her to help Mythra, and she complied with no more questions asked nor a single retort). As for the Healer blades, well, those who would tag along were more than happy to be of use. Boreas and Vess were quite willing to help out, although the former’s motives for coming along were a bit… sketchy to say the least. But hey, might as well bring them. Not putting Blades as Rare as them to use would be a big missed opportunity.

Mythra focuses her attention to the scholars, who are looking quite honestly, the worst for wear, or at least do so physically, but their interest and joy is by all means infectious. They are mumbling all manner of high-speed, high-end mumbo jumbo in a language she doesn’t care much about to truly follow along. They are throwing words and phrases back and forth while examining practically anything they can get their hands on, be it rocks, minerals, or in the case of some, even the very _air_ of the place they are in.

New Alrest is both a terrifying and exciting place for everyone, and of course, the upcoming erudites (and even some of the older ones) would stop at nothing to discover the secrets of the new world, which is why they are in the innards of a fissure somewhere around the new Gormott-Temperantian border, several dozens of caves down the surface.

“…this means that our initial assumptions…”

“…high concentration of ether fibers…”

“…at least two-thousand peds down…”

“…difference in particle density compared to…”

In all honesty, all of these comments fly by Mythra’s head, as she’s more concerned about keeping things in check over being inept to keep up with them, with most of her mind wishing that the expedition ends as soon as possible. While she does feel a modicum of interest at the possibility of discovering more of the world around her, now more than ever with relics of a time long before even her initial awakening and possibly before even the oldest Titans being right under their noses, she’s still not altruistic enough to admit that she’s away from her family, Architect knows how many damn peds under the earth, to study old scraps; _that_ is the heavy lifting left to the researchers. Knowing the end of their research is good enough for her.

After all, for the ex-Aegis of Light, this is _work_ , first and foremost. She’s not putting her Foresight to use to simply avoid unnecessary deaths in these uncharted caves or her Light Mastery to illuminate the way as they move, and not even for the end result of the exploration itself; no, Mythra’s greed is directed elsewhere.

Little by little even today, her bravado grows into genuine confidence, and she can thank those waiting for her at the surface, _at home_ , for that.

_“Would you look at me now, Addam?”_

The thought amuses her, leaving her with a feeling of fondness, tainted a little by sorrow, the kind that surfaces when remembering times past, of beloved people that are long gone; one that does not chain down, quite the contrary. After all, she no longer grieves, she no longer wishes for time to be still. She walks onward, with –sometimes faltering- but sincere determination.

“I must say, this was _quite_ a slog” A familiar voice takes Mythra out of her trance; the blonde ex-Aegis scurries a few inches to a side, allowing an exasperated Nia followed by a quiet but overworked Dromarch to join her in the lantern that makes for an artificial bonfire. Nia stretches her bare shoulders upwards, earning herself a heavenly crack on her tired muscles.

“Good job today” Mythra welcomes her companions, fully meaning every ounce of appreciation. “Want a massage?”

“That’d be lovely” Nia concedes, and soon enough Mythra is behind her doing the aforementioned kneading. “It really is a miracle these guys haven’t gotten ‘emselves killed, sheesh. I can’t believe you’ve had the patience to deal with all these men-children goin’ off on their own at every single promise of whatever junk picks ‘eir fancy!”

“You tell me” Mythra chuckles. “But you’re not really cut for Merc work, Nia. This is barely nothing”

“Merc work? Is this how you call all this babysitting?” Nia retorts humorously. “Architect knows Erio’s easier to handle compared to these wannabe Salvagers who can’t differentiate a rock from a skull!”

“You can barely keep up with Lux, Nia” Mythra chuckles as wittily as her wife.

“Keep bullying the medic, will ya?” The fox-eared Blade jokes. Dromarch cackles under his breath too, though he quickly regains his composure, earning himself an amused look from the ladies. “I do admit this ‘field work’ is quite a trip. Nothin’ like some idiot rushin’ headfirst into danger to remind me why the pain treatment is the best treatment”

“I really appreciate your and Dromarch’s presence” Mythra wraps her arms around Nia’s neck, lightly kissing the back of her hair. “Having you both watching my back means I can go all out”

Nia receives the affection without protesting. Dromarch then strides wordlessly behind the two of them, and with a silent look from Mythra, Dromarch lies down, and has the two humanoid Blades take rest on his furry back, Mythra sandwiched between the two.

“How many more peds are we diving today?” Nia asks solemnly.

“According to the chief, we’re stopping here for the night” Dromarch supplies helpfully.

“About darn time” Nia whimpers gracelessly. “I must admit that camping in the caves is not exactly my idea of glamour. I had enough of that for a lifetime with the Spirit Crucible Elpys”

“What, the ground’s too hard on your butt?” Mythra jokes

“Admittedly so” Nia confirms, earning a chuckle from the blonde. “That, and not enough privacy. Though to be fair, this place is heaven compared to that hellhole. This place doesn’t murder my ether”

“Father, I hear you” Mythra concedes tiredly. She didn’t like peeping toms (nor the Spirit Crucible), and though the brave (read: stupid) souls who dared impose on her confidentiality before had been swiftly dealt with, quickly learning that hell indeed hath no fury like a woman scorned, both Mythra and Nia would readily admit they far preferred their own bed room on the surface, _back home_.

“It is all for a good cause” Dromarch says sagely. “Besides, we cannot deny we could do well with the financial gain”

“Architectbless Rex’s little soul” Nia admits. “There really is no rest for the wicked, eh?”

“Don’t let Pyra hear you”

“Or Mana, for that matter”

There is a reason Mana is known as the de-facto vice-leader of the “do something worthwhile if you have dead free time!” squad, commanded of course by High Leader Pyra, followed by Secretary Soleil (although she doesn’t quite put as much zeal as the others and more often than not wonders how she even ended entangled in the business in the first place), Treasurer Erio (who keeps surprising everyone with how good she is with her numbers) and Ambassador, PR Management Director and General Affairs Counselor Clark (who for his life does not understand why he has to clean after the others’ messes).

In the greater scheme of things though, the power balance tips mostly between the Eternal Pancakes Battalion led by Felicia and the Good Diet Union led by Pyra (Who doubles as part of the aforementioned squad). Erio didn’t appreciate flying through all those numbers for both sides regarding cost-benefit nor take the time to put together the danged nutritional value spreadsheets, and Nia supporting Felicia only causes further chaos. Mythra and Rex for their part only tend to watch (in amusement), abiding to be impartial referees. The latest bout ended with the inevitable revelation of Nia being a double agent, a seeker of turmoil and chaos, a liar, and a Pancake robber, which broke the morale of the EPB enough for a stalemate in an otherwise brutal honeyshed, in which both sides agreed to keep Pyra’s Pancakes as the defacto breakfast of weekends and _maybe_ some weekdays at the GDU High Leader’s discretion.

Many brave souls were lost in that incident (Not really of course).

(Lux often thinks for his insides that he’s surrounded by idiots. Idiots he loves very much, mind you, but fools nonetheless).

The seconds become minutes spent in silent, comfortable company. Nia perks her ears to listen to the explorers scurrying around to finalize their campsite, and is thankful to know that they have decided to give them space. Sooner rather than later they’ll too have to make their sleeping preparations, but until then, they can enjoy a momentary peace. Nia knows they all earned it.

“What are you thinking, Myth?” She asks eventually.

“Running some numbers” Mythra replies, trying to sound casual, but the underlying tension does not go unnoticed by the aquatic Blade.

“Still worried ‘bout the future?” The Water Fox asks solemnly, her long ears drooping a bit to the sides.

Mythra’s silence confirms so, as she buries herself deeper into Nia’s silver hair.

“Hey, we can do it” Nia says earnestly.

“I know we can” Mythra admits with a faintly strained smile, which she is thankful Nia can’t see. “But I still worry sometimes. About all of us”

“Do you think… Do you think what we’re doing is enough?” The blonde continues thinly, her voice faltering.

Nia takes a moment to ponder.

“Do you remember back then? Back… when I was fidgeting with the idea of gettin’ pregnant?” Nia asks solemnly.

“How could I forget?” Mythra chuckles softly.

“You almost gave us a heart attack when you exploded on us, my lady” Dromarch supplies pitifully.

“Yeah… that… wasn’t my finest moment, I’ll be the first one t’ admit” Nia snickers. Her amber eyes are then drawn to the soft cold light produced by the ether lamp in front of them. The light is by all means artificial and produces no warmth, but its pale glow makes Nia reminisce nonetheless.

“Common sense stopped meaning much to me long ago” Nia says warmly. “You Aegises are all kinds of weird”

“I resemble that remark!” Mythra chortles, then pokes Nia’s hips, making the fox-eared Blade squirm and kick air. Dromarch also snorts under his breath, but nonetheless allows the two ladies to continue their bickering. They stop soon enough, and Mythra rests her chin on Nia’s shoulder, who in return rests her head at the side of Mythra’s.

“But I think it’s precisely because of that that I love you” Nia follows. “Without your weirdness, I would’ve never fit in”

Nia takes a moment to gather the rest of her thoughts before proceeding.

“Back when Pyra got pregnant… I really thought I was about to be left behind. I mean, a _Blade_ having a kid? That was beyond everything imaginable! On top of seeing the Architect blasted World Tree first row, on top of fighting against Malos, scourge of centuries, _on top of_ saving the world, _on top_ _of_ everything we did on our journey… you both just kept surprising me.” Her eyes drop a bit, sad feelings kicking in. “Rex was pretty surprised too”

“Understatement of the millennium” Mythra tries to alleviate the tension.

“In a way, I’ve always known that there are things I will never be able to compete in with ya two” Nia continues. “Comin’ back from the dead? Now that’s a trip no one of us signed up for”

“Nia…”

“I seriously wanted to punch ya in the face, ya know? The both of you. Punch ya in yer pretty perfect faces for making us all, _Rex_ more than anyone, so miserable”

“We deserved it” Mythra admits. “By all means we deserved your ire. Hell, _we_ ourselves thought we wouldn’t survive. And yet…”

Nia takes Mythra’s hands under her own and squeezes them tightly.

“You didn’t. You all received us with smiles“ Mythra tells fondly.

“When we got together, all four of us, I didn’t know what t’ expect in the least” Nia continues. “For years I had been a runaway, tryin’ t’ escape everythin’ that made me, and though I knew for certain that you wouldn’t push me away, I couldn’t keep my bad thoughts away at all times.

And when we realized Pyra was expecting, I feared I would be pushed away again. The prospect of a pregnant Blade was disturbing enough, but until then it hadn’t even really _kicked in_ that we were forming a family, without our planning perhaps, or just maybe, _just maybe_ , that it was already formed, only we’d be getting’ new members soon.”

“Back then… Thinking that you could offer Rex something I couldn’t nearly broke me. On top of everything that happened, you had the _gall_ to show me how utterly unmatched I was. A kid, Architect! A kid between a Blade and a human!”

“We knew” Mythra admits.

“Heh. And yet, look at me now! I have a child of my own and am roaring for a second!” Nia pumps her left fist victoriously, but chuckles grimly. “Although I know it’s not exactly a good proposition at the moment”

Mythra keeps quiet for a second, letting Nia’s words sink in, as she takes a peek at the mismatched Core Crystal shining dimly on Nia’s chest. Where there once was a blue glow tainted with red, result of her “sin”, now stood a dull silver-blue crystal marked with a combination of green and red, result of a “promise”.

“I don’t regret it, you know?” Nia speaks, almost reading Mythra’s thoughts. “Even if I had almost died, I don’t regret goin’ through with the reconstruction”

“Even if it could mean you may leave us sooner?” Mythra queries solemnly, refusing to let Nia see her eyes. The implications of having reconstructed Nia’s Core Crystal so thoroughly were tantalizing. Hell, having done it in the first place was preposterous.

Nia takes a moment to ponder.

“Not gonna lie. I’m still getting adjusted to all this… mortality thing” Nia decides. “But… I wouldn’t have it any other way. We three are all the same now. Long ago, I decided to throw in my lot with you… I decided to be in this together with you”

Nia finally turns towards Mythra, smiling a toothy grin.

“Until the end, whatever it may be” Nia motions Mythra’s hands towards her Core Crystal and squeezes the blonde ex-Aegis’ hand, making her squeeze it lightly. “For the gift of life you and Pyra have given me, I will be forever grateful. For Rex giving me a place to call home, I will forever be grateful, and for all of us being a family, not even the end of the world will stop me from loving you.

You saved the world, beat death, mothered children being Architect damned _Blades_ , hell, allowed _me_ to be able to mother children of my own, and you’re worried you can’t beat the economy?”

“It’s not only the economy I worry about nowadays, Nia” Mythra admits. “It’s just that… nowadays, I feel that I should look at _everything_ with a new perspective”

“How come?”

“Nia. I know Pyra and I are aging” Mythra comes clean. “I know that we are not immortal anymore, and it still is something very… strange to get around to.

Neither Pyra nor I have any memories of after the time we gave Rex our Core Crystal. We only have your recollection of events, which… is not that conclusive. Sometimes I wonder… what did we think at that moment before we passed away then? How did we feel at the very moment of truth, when it was time to… _go_?

Sometimes I wonder why Father didn’t allow us to keep our very final memories of that time. I often think that maybe he didn’t want us to experience that pain again, but at the same time, I feel…. _incomplete_ not knowing exactly what went through our heads at the time. I know for certain I didn’t want to leave you, but I still feel that there’s this little piece missing from me.

All this time in, and I still try to come to terms with knowing that there will be a day _I won’t be around any longer_. I guess… I always took my immortality for granted, so being faced with the looming question now, without knowing what I would have thought at that one time…”

Mythra’s words fade into silence.

“Myth, if you were to ask me… and this is just me” Nia begins slowly after some time. “I think that what you felt at that time doesn’t really matter now”

“Why do you say so?” Mythra asks neutrally.

“Back then, that was a do-or-die situation” Nia elaborates. “Your hand had been forced, and you found no other way but to take… _that_ way out, and…”

“…And?” Mythra tries to prod Nia into following, but she also found herself at a loss for words.

“If I may…” Dromarch steps in. “I believe I know what my lady is talking about, or at least a good guess”

“Dromarch?” Nia’s eyes widen incredulously.

“As a Blade, even more so of the Healer designation, I’m well acquainted with the balance of life, mortal life more than any other kind. It is simply in our nature” The tiger elaborates sagely. “We Healer Blades are always dealing with the composition of the life around us, down from the basest of ether to the most complicated of organs and biological systems, and as such, pardon me for sounding presumptuous, we tend to understand the world a bit better than most, or at least, we do it from a more… encompassing view.

Life is a fickle thing. The small animals are eaten by the larger ones, rain falls to enrich the soil where crops are grown, seeds are scattered by the wind to extend life. Chains strike through the natural order to keep a cycle going, further supported by the environment, be it that you live on land, air or sea, you are part of something greater.

This applies even to us Blades, immortal as we may seem. We lose our individual selves each time we return to our cores, and are _reborn_ each time as different individuals. Be it should we turn into Titans, even then we would eventually perish and return to the ether. We come from and return to it.

Now, you, Lady Mythra… you and Lady Pyra until that fateful day had been exempt of that cycle, not quite by choice of course, but by circumstance. If my understanding of your functions as the… Processor Units, was it? Is correct, you were designed more as… supervisors rather than actual members of the world the Architect created, if it makes any sense. Having the questions you have is expected, natural even, but I believe that, as humans say, maybe it’s good to just _‘take it easy’_ , perhaps maybe for this one topic”

Mythra takes a moment to let the words sink in.

“As the years have passed… I’ve been having this line of thought more and more” Dromarch continues after a while, having not received response from either Mythra or Nia. “Our Creator left two gifts behind: One is New Alrest, the promised Elysium for the people… the other… is a seed for his closest children, Lady Mythra and Lady Pyra; one gift they shared with you, my Lady, now that you essentially have the same capabilities as them”

“What do you mean by that, old cat?” Nia’s voice quivers.

“I do not mean a literal seed, of course” Dromarch chuckles. “But I believe that everything, including New Alrest and yourselves, is the foundation of a future. One that we will not come to see ourselves, but in the end, it is fine that way. The Architect… he seemed a very ancient, old and tired man, and his gift to us is a brave new world for your children, built upon a wish to entrust said world to a better future, built upon a wish of _hope_ , just like Master Rex pleaded him back then.

A world that lives on with the knowledge of the past, not quite chained by it, but not discarding it into oblivion either like the Alrest of old, where the ancient wisdom was buried deep beneath the Cloud Sea and the mysteries of the world held into some bizarre relic of times long past out there far away in the outer confines of space.

My Lady, Lady Mythra. Whether you live decades or centuries from now on, knowing that you have a definitive end somewhere down the line is a joy that should be embraced with pride”

“Even if I don’t know what awaits me in the future?” Mythra finds it hard to voice her thoughts, but has the fortitude to let the haunting question leave her lips.

“Precisely because you don’t know what awaits in the future, Lady Mythra” Dromarch responds rhetorically. “Don’t you think your load is much lighter now, knowing that you have an end somewhere down the line? One that you’ll be able to decide on your terms?”

“You know what, Dromarch? You’re right” Nia answers confidently. “Completely right. My answer is here with you, all of you”

Nia squeezes Mythra tightly, who sheepishly reciprocates, then gives a stressed laugh.

“Ha, look at me” Mythra wallows in mock self-pity. “More than 500 years old and I’m still acting like an angsty teenager. Father, don’t let Pyra hear this”

“You don’t look past 400” Nia jokes.

“Your secret is safe with me, Lady Mythra” Dromarch follows supportively. “Perhaps it’s for the best to keep searching for that answer tomorrow, and if not, the day after. You have at least that much time”

The beast Blade then gives a long, hearty yawn.

“And true companions to seek that answer with”

Mythra nods to herself, a small smile curling on her lips.

“If anything, I believe you already know what fills your hearts the most these days, don’t you?”

That small phrase makes the ex-Aegis self-reflect.

_‘What is it that makes me happiest?’_

She searches deep within her, and for the life of her, she cannot help but picture that house on the edges of Fonsett, filled with people she cherishes. She identifies the warm feeling that fills her chest soon enough, and is silently thankful for being more insightful than she gives herself credit for.

 _Gratitude_ is what fills Mythra’s heart the most these days.

Gratitude towards her beloved husband, still ditzy and sometimes slow on the uptake, but nonetheless a wonderful man with a heart shining brighter than any Core Crystal on the earth or any star in the nocturnal sky. Gratitude for his drive that never strays him away from his way, even when that heart of gold puts him in tight spots.

Gratitude towards her sister and fellow wife, who becomes her strength and confidant in matters where she herself falls short, never opposites, not quite parallels, sometimes rivals, but always complements. Gratitude for having come to terms of being fractured reflections of each other and still remaining by each other’s side after all these years.

Gratitude towards Nia, for being the voice of reason in the maelstrom that was their polygamous marriage and all its quirks, shortcomings and oftentimes strenuous mishaps. Gratitude for holding steadfast through the selfishness all of them showed in their day to day and the struggles that come with raising a family.

Gratitude towards Azurda and his wisdom and attentive ear, for putting up with a bunch of kids that became adults before they even noticed, and surviving a world they don’t know together. Gratitude for being a guiding hand and the father Rex needs, and unsurprisingly, a good father-in-law and grandfather (or would it be great grandfather?), even if his snark and grouchiness would often suggest otherwise.

Gratitude towards Dromarch, for all the burnt fur, all the desperate dives, all the bullets of sweat, all bedtime stories and countless more small things he has done for the children. Gratitude for his devotion towards the kids; that even though Nia remains first and foremost on his mind, he does not shy away from the duties he uptook for himself, as the unofficial second grandfather of their family, and also as a father-in-law to Pyra and herself like in moments like these.

Gratitude towards Mòrag and Zeke, for remaining true companions through the years, even if their personal situations made the actual meetings with them scarcer as they became swamped in work and politics for the betterment of New Alrest through the years. Gratitude for their continued support (both direct and indirect) when they faced adversities they couldn’t outdo even as a family (Even if her own and Rex’s personal prides got in the way a few times, with Nia also being guilty of it as well).

Gratitude even for that little lazy ball of fur Tora and Poppi, who were great playmates for the kids, although the Nopon did need a steady hand to keep him away from entangling the kids in his… _personal_ tastes. Although Tora would forever be more engrossed in whatever latest research he sparked up along with his father compared to the outside world, that didn’t stop the Nopon from dropping in unannounced every once in a while when Poppi and Lila would kick him out of the lab to get some sun and humor the kids with whatever ridiculous gadget he had at hand. Poppi herself was as much of a kid as a big sister to them too as she remained a friend to the Aegises, being one of the most beloved playmates to the kids, being as pure as ever (snark for Tora notwithstanding).

Gratitude for being blessed with wonderful children, blood tying them together or not. Gratitude for being able to experience maternity with the people she loves the most.

And gratitude for countless more reasons. For being loved, for being able to love, for being able to stand proud on her own feet, on her own terms, for being able to live as she deems fit.

And in the midst of those thoughts, one particular figure stands out in Mythra’s mind.

An elderly Aunt Corrine, with that characteristic easy-going smile on her serene face.

Even though she can hardly do half the stuff she could years ago these days, she embraces each new coming day with joy. Even if her bones are old and are becoming harder to move, Mythra is fascinated at the revelation of how the old woman does not give up even at the weight of her time running out. Many kids she had raised, many kids she had seen come and go, and not once to this day had Mythra seen someone so dedicated to their family. She even felt inadequate in comparison.

 _Gratitude_ once more fills her heart, and Mythra finds herself squeezing Nia a bit tighter.

“Myth?” Nia asks at the change.

“I think… I have a lead of my own answer” She beams a radiant smile. “Not quite everything, I think, but a great place to start, one better than any I hoped”

“Is that so…?”

“Yeah” Mythra grins confidently. Nia catches that smirk, and curses at the criminal adorableness that is a glad Mythra.

“Thank you, Nia”.

“Always”.

“Thank you too, Dromarch”.

“A pleasure to be of service”.

Mythra decides she’s going to have Pyra teach her the recipe of Corinne’s favorite stew, even if she has to beg for it. And perhaps cook for the whole family.

(Somewhere over the surface, a red haired Blade and her husband shivered at unison, feeling an unsettling combination of warmth and danger).


End file.
